Jeru The Damaja - b**hez Wit Dikz lyrics

f/ Lil Dap, Miz Marvel Intro: Jeru The Damaja Yes yes Check it out right here now, knowhatimean? Henryville, the muthaf**kin b**hez wit dikz That's in the midst, of the real brothers whose the true wonders Knowhatimsayin? Talkin all that sh** about this and this and that But fakin sh**, I'mma drop it like this {Jeru The Damaja Bad b**hes and techs, and sound affects Talk but skate like Tara Lipinski, when sh** get hec-tic Out in Brooklyn, too late you's a vick And if spend major dough on a hoe, you a b**h a** trick Pimps and players, no I'm not a hater 'cause I smashed it off, she bust me down I ain't pay her Shoutin youse a regulator, soft like C3PO, but pop sh** like Darth Vader For Princess Leia, with flesh hard like Shaggy Your booty, when sh** get raw you Doo like Scooby I'm snatching chains, mics and those platinum groupies Dutches, chins, and hips get twist And let it be known, I eat ya'll pussies like a p**no movie Drop that b**h with a dick, and get a n***a like this Chorus: Jeru The Damaja (Miz Marvel) You never see him the in the ghetto (b**hez Wit Dikz) Think they pimps, but they tricks (b**hez Wit Dikz) Turn to states evidence (b**hez Wit Dikz) When beef come they skip (b**hez Wit Dikz) *b**h!* You never see him the in the ghetto (b**hez Wit Dikz) Think they pimps, but they tricks (b**hez Wit Dikz) When beef come they skip (b**hez Wit Dikz) Turn to states evidence (b**hez Wit Dikz) *b**h!* {Lil Dap You n***as are like East New York waste, spit in your face Open your mouth, swallow the taste, listen to the pace It's like showin the love, the same thing as pullin the club Spit it out, ya hoes know what this sh** is about b**hez wit dicks, and make a n***a mad as sh** Cough the cough, when singing thru the streets of New York Holdin it down, but wavin my banner all around 'cause these whole motherf**kers, wanna round are town Thinkin they down, but dont know BK grounds *b**h!* Chorus {Miz Marvel The next contestant left to be a secret lethal weapon Against half steppin, n***as is fake, I scope them first impression Take the mics possession, with the greatest discretion And quick wit, fully equipped, mental lie detection Ya eyes cross like an intersection You forget to count your blessings, all in the mix Sold your soul for it's weight in gold bricks b**hez wit dikz, with chips like chicks Only talk with snares and tits In the time of revolution, be the first to submit Try to be God, but there mental seem unfit Speakin mathematics, but quick to kiss a crucifix Won't admit that their style is rip and counterfeited Contradict, sell their men to bang their fit, a moving target Thrown into the bottomless pit, b**hez wit dikz Chorus (b**h! scratched over and over)